


Cloth and Leather

by inkpetal



Category: Legend of the Seeker, The Sword of Truth - Terry Goodkind
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkpetal/pseuds/inkpetal
Summary: She had to admit, it was an impressive garment. Seeing it up close like this, Cara supposed she could understand why Kahlan valued it so much. It wasn't just any old dress, after all, but the white dress of confessor. It had the same potential to strike fear into the hearts of enemies as a Mord-Sith’s red leather.





	Cloth and Leather

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick little scene I needed to get out of my head while watching the show. Thanks for reading!

Well, that was as good as it was going to get.

Cara bit off the end of the thread and regarded her work. She was no seamstress, but a quick mend was simple enough.

She didn’t understand why Kahlan always insisted on wearing this dress. In Cara's mind, dresses were nothing but a nuisance – constantly getting caught on things and flapping around in the wind, slowing you down. They're useless in a fight, too - all that loose fabric hinders mobility, giving the enemy something to grab hold of.

How Kahlan managed to hold her own in a fight wearing such an obnoxious garment was beyond Cara’s understanding. She cared so deeply for this stupid white dress, which had torn on a branch earlier that morning. 

It had been a long, exhausting day, and Kahlan had fallen asleep before mending it. Cara, who was on watch, had taken up the project for lack of anything better to do. Part of her hoped Kahlan wouldn't even notice. Another part eagerly anticipated seeing her reaction in the morning. 

After she’d finished, she stopped to inspect her work, fingertips tracing over the pearly embroidery. She had to admit, it was an impressive garment. The cloth was thick and durable, and had an almost ethereal quality to it, as through the fabric was infused with some sort of magic to keep the brightness from fading. Seeing it up close like this, Cara supposed she could understand why Kahlan valued it so much. It wasn't just any old dress, after all, but the white dress of confessor. It had the same potential to strike fear into the hearts of enemies as a Mord-Sith’s red leather.

Perhaps they did have something in common after all. They both understood what it was like to be feared. Cara didn’t know much of Kahlan’s past, but she knew that, like herself, Kahlan had been robbed of her childhood. Kahlan didn’t choose to become a confessor, just as Cara didn’t choose to become a Mord-Sith. In fact, if it weren’t for the different paths fate had bestowed upon them, they might have even been friends. 

Cara's eyes drifted over to Kahlan’s sleeping figure, illuminated by the firelight. She watched her chest rise and fall with each soft breath, and the way her dark hair cascaded over her shoulder in loose curls. In another life...perhaps they might have even been more than friends. Cara forced the thought away. It was useless to think about what could have been.

The next morning, Kahlan rummaged through her pack for her dress immediately upon waking, not even glancing at the breakfast Cara was preparing. Typical, for Kahlan to prioritize that over everything else. With a sleepy yawn, she pulled out the thread and needle Cara had used just a few hours before, and spread the dress out on her lap. 

Cara watched out of the corner of her eye as Kahlan searched for the tear. The level of anticipation she was feeling disgusted her. Was she really so desperate for Kahlan’s approval? She forced herself to look away, only to look back moments later to see Kahlan staring right back at her, wearing a perplexed expression.

“Cara...did you mend this?” Kahlan asked.

Cara couldn't hold her gaze, so she busied herself with breakfast. “I like to keep busy.”

Kahlan raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated this dress.”

Cara shrugged. “I get why you wear it, I guess. Though, whoever decided confessors should wear dresses was an incompetent fool.”

Kahlan just smiled, and hugged the dress to herself. "Thank you. You know this means a lot to me."

“It's nothing,” she replied curtly. “I just didn’t want to wait for you to do it in the morning, that’s all.”

“Well, it was very kind of you,” Kahlan said, locking eyes with her. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“As I said, it's nothing,” Cara repeated, and quickly turned away, as though the butterflies she felt in her chest might somehow be visible. “Hurry up and eat so we can get moving.”


End file.
